


A Losing Game

by DetectiveJoan



Series: Stoic Mind, Bleeding Heart [2]
Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst?, Dubious Consent, M/M, Pre-Finale Draft Clean-Out, Sexual Content, Shakespeare Quotations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 13:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveJoan/pseuds/DetectiveJoan
Summary: “I mean, it didn’t used to be like this,” Mark says between kisses. “We lived out of that fucking car for months and I never had any trouble keeping my hands off you, but now —"(Prompt: Ravenclaw!Damien)





	A Losing Game

**Author's Note:**

> **Content warnings:** [gestures vaguely at everything] It ain't healthful, folks.
> 
> I know I said I wasn't going to post anything else for this pairing, but I figured I'd get this out of my drafts before the finale. Sorry bout it. 
> 
> Title from "[Ruin Your Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzAWFCQGqlg)" by Sorcha Richardson.

The next time Mark shows up and lets himself in, they manage to get undressed (barely); the time after that, they actually make it into Damien’s bedroom.

“This is insane,” Mark says as Damien struggles out of his shirt while Mark fumbles to open his belt.

Damien still secretly thinks everything about them being together is this side of crazy, but Mark doesn’t want to hear that, so Damien just makes a noise like a shrug and focuses on putting his tongue back in Mark’s mouth.

“I mean, it didn’t used to be like this,” Mark says between kisses. “We lived out of that fucking car for _months_ and I never had any trouble keeping my hands off you, but now — okay, what the fuck is wrong with your jeans?”

Mark lets go of the stubborn zipper so Damien can undo it himself. “We didn’t both have functioning abilities back then,” Damien points out, kicking his jeans and boxers to the floor and then letting Mark maneuver him onto the bed. “Like you said before, it’s the feedback loop. Intensifies things.”

“Well one of us needs to figure out how to turn this off at some point,” Mark says.

Damien has no idea what that’s supposed to mean, and a second later Mark’s mouth is on his dick and he doesn’t have any brain space left for figuring it out.

Later — after — when Damien’s absolutely spent but Mark is somehow still all keyed up, Mark tucks his hand under his head so his elbow pokes against the headboard and speaks like the conversation hadn’t been interrupted in the slightest by all the _amazing sex they’d just had._

“What turns your ability down a couple levels?”

Damien closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at Mark’s stupidly earnest face. “Alcohol,” he says, “but I don’t think getting wasted would make the sex better.”

“Would make it slower,” Mark says, like he’s actually considering it.

“Lechery, sir, it provokes and unprovokes,” Damien recites without thinking. “It provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery.”

There’s a beat of silence. “ _Lechery?”_ Mark repeats with something like glee in his tone.

Damien waves him away. “It’s Macbeth.”

“Of all the Shakespeare to recite in bed.” Mark’s almost laughing.

“Oh, what did you expect from me? A sonnet?” Damien teases right back. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day or what the fuck ever.”

Mark rolls over and hovers with his lips an inch away from Damien’s. “To be honest,” he says, “I try not to expect anything in particular from you.”

Damien finally opens his eyes again. He could press himself up the slightest bit and kiss Mark until he forgets any of this conversation even happened, but instead he says, “I don’t know why you’re complaining, like this isn’t the best sex you’ve had in years.”

Mark doesn’t respond, and doesn’t respond, and doesn’t respond.

“Oh my God,” Damien says when it finally clicks. “You _slept_ with her?”

The shape of Mark’s exasperated sigh is going to be etched in Damien’s brain forever at this point, but that doesn’t change how sharp it always feels to hear. “No shit, Damien. I like her.”

Damien props himself up on his elbows, and Mark moves back to give him the space. “But Sam _hates_ me,” he says.

Mark pushes him back down with two fingers on his forehead. “Yeah, I know. I hate you too. We bonded over it.”

“Okay, but bonded in the past tense, right? You’re not still — I mean, since we — you and I —” his brain is spinning way too fast and all Mark does is give him a look so skeptical he’s got to be purposefully exaggerating it.

“Oh, are we exclusive?” he says. “Like, you’re my boyfriend now? Is that what you’re trying to say? Because I don’t remember having that conversation.”

Damien tries to imagine what being Mark’s boyfriend would even entail. Taking him out to dinner? Buying him roses? Reciting poetry to him in earnest?

“We could —” he starts with no fucking clue what he’s about to say.

“No,” Mark says firmly. “We really couldn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm DetectiveJoan and you can find me on [tumblr](http://detectivejoan.tumblr.com/).


End file.
